


Friendship Set to Music

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [82]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Loki is your friend. He needs a friend. So when you develop certain other feelings for him, you get kind of messed up.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [82]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 11
Kudos: 261





	Friendship Set to Music

_"Love is a friendship set to music." -Joseph Campbell_

You ruined it all.

For a long time now, you’d been growing ever-closer with Loki, much to the surprise of everyone in the Tower. He allowed you to sit quietly in the living room with him while you both read. Then he started allowing you to ask him questions, and he even started answering them. Then he started initiating conversation with you. Before long, you started doing a lot of things together, and Tony started joking about how attached at the hip you were. You’d been nervous, at first, that his jokes would make Loki withdraw from you again, but he’d immediately taken to pulling you close to him so that your sides were literally touching and asking Tony if he was jealous. 

You were friends. It was hard to believe that someone like Loki would allow someone like you to even befriend him, but he accepted your overtures at every step along the way. 

And then you went ahead and ruined it.

You were training in the gym one night. Sometimes Loki would agree to spar with you so you could practice some hand-to-hand combat. He tried to cheat, sometimes, by surrounding you with doubles, but you didn’t even mind that all that much, since it let you get more and more familiar with fighting when you were outnumbered. Natasha had taught you to fight like her, to use an opponent’s strength and momentum against him, but Loki was so much trickier than that. He wasn’t large and hulking; he was small and fast and clever. It absolutely confounded you. Often, your fights would end with his knee pressed against your back as he shoved your face against the mat. But on the rare occasions that you beat him, pinning him down more with the threat of causing himself pain if he tried to move than with physical strength, he seemed even more excited about that.

Tonight, you had the upper hand. By now, you should have learned not to let that go to your head, because Loki was an expert at flipping the script and throwing you to the mat, but already you were feeling something like a triumphant swell in your chest. So maybe you got a little complacent. You were just about to declare victory over him when he yanked your arm out from under you. The world was a dizzying mess for a moment, and when your vision cleared he was straddling you and pinning your wrists above your head.

That only made you feel dizzier. You hated the way your face felt when you looked up at him, surely dreamy and out-of-it, but it was hard to shake it off. His weight pressing down on you made you feel secure. Comfortable. He was pinching your wrists a little, but all you really felt was how strong his hands were. At first, he glared down at you with an intensity that made you have to fight to catch your breath. His face was flushed—only a little—and his breath came only a little bit faster than normal. Of course this wasn’t much of a struggle for him. He was close enough to you that you could smell him, warm and musky and clean, and you certainly didn’t mind the fact that _you_ were breathing so hard because it let you keep taking deep breaths of him. His face was sharp. He was fucking gorgeous.

And you desperately wanted him to kiss you.

The thought made you freeze. Maybe he could see something in your face, because his eyes softened a bit. But still he didn’t move. If you didn’t have such good control over your body, you might have been extremely tempted to strain upwards, towards him, and try to capture his lips on your own. You twisted your wrists, trying to free yourself from his grip, but his touch was like iron. Something surged in your chest—not panic, but...desire. You closed your eyes to try to hide it from him. “Okay! I surrender. Let me up.”

He did so without question. When he got to his feet, he held out a hand to help you up as well, but you couldn’t take it. What would you do if you felt his touch again, when you felt how strong his fingers were? It was dangerous. You stood up on your own and went to get your towel to wipe your face. It let you turn your back on him so you could try to re-establish your personal space. He had to realize that something was suddenly Off about you. All too often, it seemed like he could tell exactly how you were feeling just by looking at you, no matter how hard you worked to keep things hidden. You didn’t like showing him the weakest parts of yourself, the parts like this. He wasn’t here to deal with that. But he always saw right through you and, right now, the thought of that was horrifying.

“Did I hurt you?” He didn’t come any closer to you, which was kind of a blessing, but you could feel his eyes on your back. You shook your head vigorously.

“No. I’m fine.” Your voice, thank god, sounded steady and level despite the way everything seemed to be shifting around you. What were you _thinking_? You hid your face in your towel just a little longer than was strictly necessary, bracing yourself to turn around and face him. You didn’t stand a chance of keeping this hidden from him for long. You just wanted to avoid having to watch his face twist into horror when he realized what was up. You drew in a sharp breath, let it out, and then turned to smile at him. “Uh, good game. Or fight. Or workout. I’ll have to get stronger, I guess. So, thanks for this, but I just remembered that I have to go do something.” You knew perfectly well that he’d see right through your obvious lie, but your main concern right now was getting out of here before he could figure out what was really going on. And so, without waiting for a response, you turned tail and ran. 

Like a coward.

You spent the next week or so avoiding him. It wasn’t a sustainable plan, you knew, but it would work until you could figure out what was going on. It sucked. He needed a friend. Otherwise, he was alone in the Tower with a huge group of superheroes who had once wanted him dead. Hell, with the way some of them still looked at him, maybe some still did. He acted like he was big and tough and didn’t need anyone, but you’d always paid enough attention to him to note the way he seemed more relaxed in common areas when you were right next to him. He laughed with you. He let himself be almost soft and open and he told you things that he said even Thor didn’t know. And now you were trying to turn all of that into something romantic. Something he didn’t need. Your guilt made it easy to duck your head and flee when he got too close. You tried to swallow down your feelings enough so that you could spend _some_ time with him and not make him feel completely abandoned, but it was difficult. 

Ignoring your feelings only made things worse. When you woke up in the middle of a dream where you held him, kissed him, ran your fingers through his hair, you always stared with burning eyes at the ceiling while the voice in the back of your mind berated you for being so stupid. You were a human. He was never shy about his disdain for humans. Granted, once the two of you really started hanging out, he more or less stopped talking about those kinds of things, but your brain was quick to rationalize that away as his attempts to seek out any kind of peace with you.

Before now, you’d never really realized how much he touched you. When you spent time with him, he continued to pull you in close to make a point to Tony, but even when it was just the two of you, he touched you a lot. Sometimes if you were reading together, he’d rest his hand on your knee. He wasn’t shy about brushing your hair out of your face or grabbing your arm when an idea struck him or holding your hand when you walked down the street. Every time he did, you had to choke down a new rush of feelings. This was incredible, for him. Loki was so sullen, so reserved, that every touch felt like a blessing, and you were ruining that for both of you. You had to fight your body, hard, to keep from flinching away when he touched you. You only had mixed success.

You knew that your efforts were hurting him. His eyes would linger on you for too long. He’d study your face like he was trying to figure you out, and even when you looked away from him you continued to feel his gaze on you. But you told yourself it was only for now. Once you could get your brain back under control so that you’d stop romanticizing every single thing he did, you could go back to normal. If he still wanted to bother with you after all this. You certainly wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

Things caught up with you one night while the Tower slept. You knew it wasn’t smart to wander the halls at night. You knew that Loki tended to do the same thing. But you couldn’t sleep and the walls of your room just kept feeling like they were closing in around you, so you had to get out and do _something_. You were standing at the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil for a cup of tea, when you felt a presence behind you. You knew it was him. Your heart leapt into your throat, but you’d had a lot of practice with choking it back down by now, so you steeled yourself and then turned around. He looked a little bit rumpled, but by now you knew him well enough that it was not from sleeping. It was from _not_ sleeping. Your heart went out to him.

“Hey, welcome to Insomniacs Anonymous.” He didn’t return your attempt at a smile. His eyes were sharp as he looked at you. As always, you got the sense that he could see right through you. You swallowed hard but did not look away. “Want some tea?”

“If I say yes, are you going to run away from me again?” He sounded cautious and guarded, the way he had sounded very early on in your friendship. You’d really made a mess of things. You ducked your head to accept his not-so-subtle dig, and stared at your hands.

“No.” More words bubbled up through your chest: attempts at explaining yourself, apologies, pleas for him to forgive you, but you bit down on your tongue instead. You turned away from him so you could reach to take down another mug out of the cupboard. You didn’t have to look at him to know that he approached you then, slowly, like someone approaching a cornered animal. This was so unfair to him. He deserved a friend he didn’t have to tiptoe around.

The silence felt thick. Deafening. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but nothing came out of your mouth. Maybe he didn’t notice. Maybe he was just waiting quietly for tea next to someone he’d once considered a friend. Your chest felt tight. You reached into the drawer of tea bags and handed it to him, and you didn’t flinch when his fingers brushed against yours. But your heart did skip a beat, which made you bite down on your tongue a little harder. You were a disaster.

He didn’t speak until the kettle boiled, and you started to fill your mugs with tea. “Why are you avoiding me?” His voice was low. You got the sense that maybe he was afraid to hear the answer. But he also sounded so hurt, so vulnerable. You’d never heard him sound like that before. If he’d ever felt that way, he’d always managed to keep it hidden. It made your eyes sting and burn, and you kept your gaze averted in hopes of hiding that from him. Not that he should care.

“I’m sorry.” It started to spill out all at once, maybe because of how badly you were hurting. “I’m sorry. It’s not because of you. I know that it’s stupid and it’s wrong and it’s really badly-timed. I’m working on it. It’s all me, I promise. You didn’t do anything. It’s me. I’m trying to be what you need, but I just need some time. I—” You cut yourself off with an unexpected sob. This had been weighing so heavily on you for so long now that it was hard to stop for long enough to make sure you were making sense. “I’m so sorry, Loki. I think I’m in love with you, okay?” Your brain wanted you to keep babbling at him. There were so many apologies that he deserved. He needed _friendship_ , not whatever sick crush this was. But your breathing was getting unsteady in a way that threatened tears, and you certainly weren’t about to make him deal with _that_.

He laughed. The sound cut through you, but he caught your hands before you could turn away from him. His fingers closed loosely around your wrists and he used them to pull you in closer. That seemed unfair, but you didn’t struggle against him. You deserved this. He drew in a breath and it was clear that he was going to speak. You couldn’t hide from this.

“Good.”

Good? You looked up at him before you could stop yourself. When you did, his eyes were soft and finally seemed free of the pain he’d been carrying around for so long. That was a good start, maybe. He seemed to smile at your complete bewilderment, and released one of your hands so he could touch your cheek.

“What is this surprise? I thought I was being too obvious, personally. Thor caught on ages ago. Do you mean to tell me you had no idea?” It felt like it had been ages since you saw him smile at you like this. 

Suspicion was creeping in, but you forced it away, desperate not to make yourself look like an idiot. “W-what are you talking about?”

He sighed, then, and leaned in to press his forehead against yours. Rather than trying to maintain eye contact, you let your eyes drift closed. He smelled the same as always. Not as sweaty as he did when he was in the gym, of course, but comforting. Familiar. He moved his other hand to cup your other cheek and brushed his thumbs along your cheekbones. “I have loved you for a long time now. I tried to keep it hidden at first, because I thought that you’d pull away from me if you knew that my feelings were no longer quite so friendly, but it got to be too much. So I stopped hiding.”

Perhaps you were dreaming. Perhaps you’d fainted with surprise the first time you’d felt Loki behind you tonight. Because surely this was not really happening. Your mouth moved for a moment or two as you tried to find the right words to say. “You love _me_?!” 

Hardly the right words, but...they’d do, for now.

He laughed again and it sounded like it came from somewhere deep inside his body. He pulled away from you only to press his lips to your forehead. It felt like a spark, like electricity, like pure magic that began to flow through your body. 

“How can you be so bright but also so _foolish_?” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke. Perhaps your heart would never beat normally again. “I thought you knew. I thought that was why you were pulling away.”

“No!” It was hard to really control your volume, but you cleared your throat and tried again. “No. Loki, I was pulling away because I thought it wasn’t fair for me to feel these things for you when all you wanted was friendship.” Was this really happening? You reached out to touch him, to feel his chest solid in front of you. 

“All I wanted was you.” He whispered that against your forehead, but you heard each word perfectly. An ever-shrinking part of you still insisted that this couldn’t be real, but he felt real. You grasped at his shirt like you could keep all this from fading away.

“You have me.” Never in your life had you ever spoken truer words.

He must have sensed the truth in your voice, in your very soul, because he tilted your chin up then and met your gaze. If he saw your tears, he said nothing. He just stared at you for a moment, like he was looking for something in particular, and then he slanted his lips across yours.

You clutched at him with trembling fingers, kissed him with everything you had. So did he. The kiss was deep and sweet and filled with mutual longing. It was everything you’d hoped it’d be, but it was also so much more. He turned you so that your back was pressing against the edge of the counter and kissed you like he could devour you. When you sighed, or sobbed, or whimpered against him, he took it all in stride, and you felt the way his lips curled into a smile.

The tea went cold behind you. But you didn’t need it anymore.


End file.
